Stage
by Eclectify
Summary: (KamiIbu, MoriUchi, SakuIshi, lonely Tachi) Sometimes our memories move across our minds like a fantastic play. A look into the lives of the Fudomine boys on the eve of their graduation from the eyes of one of their lesser known members...Mori Tatsunori.


Title: Stage  
Rating: G  
Pairing: KamIbu, MoriUchi, SakuraiIshida...poor lonely Tachi...  
Warnings: Other than the completely WEIRD way I've written this and the chance of it making NO sense...erm...no?  
Notes: Written the 'History' challenge on the LJ fudocourts community and in a style I'm really used to writing in but wanted to experiment with.

* * *

The wooden slats conform comfortably against his back, following the natural curve of his spine as he lay on the small suspension bridge. The night still holds the afternoon's warmth and all he needs is the soft fabric of his team jersey against his skin to ward off any chill that a breeze may bring. Above him dark sky blankets the night, countless stars twinkling within its folds. The lone moon shines over the park, it's full light ghosting beams over the play equipment abandoned in favor of slumber. Below him the barest stirring of a breeze sends drifts of sand twisting around wood and metal, some grains daring to brush against a small patch of skin peeking through between pant hem and sneaker.

There is something beautiful about this moonlit graveyard of a playground, so different from the day when school children fill it with laughter, fights and play. But something about the ghostly serenity of this place, watched over only by celestial bodies appeals to the boy sprawling across that bridge, blue eyes upturning to gaze at the moon and the stars as they gaze down upon the world.

It is the last night he will lie here as a student of the school in which grounds the playground stands. He comes, having climbed from his window as his parents slept, to watch the moon and the stars and think about the day gone past and those having gone before it. Tomorrow will be another day, the same yet he will leave behind all that has made up his days and begin to fill it with other things. Different things.

He hopes that it will remain filled with the same people.

An idle breeze lifts one dark clump of spiked hair and drifts over the others like the gentle fingers of a lover's caress. Blue eyes shut the glowing orb and its smaller companions away from view.

Graduation.

It has come upon him quicker now that it is he who will be leaving. Leaving behind a school he had at once hated but quickly has learned to cherish. He can recall the same time last year, when he lay on this bridge, not alone but in the company of five others. Graduation had been something both anticipated and dreaded that year only because they would be losing a part of them so entwined in their lives it would be like living without a limb.

Or, perhaps, in that case it would be more accurate to say a heart.

The night their captain had graduated, the Fudomine team had gathered in this park, watched over by the moon and her companions. They had reminisced on times painful and times filled with pride. Of tears and laughter, triumph and heartbreaking defeat. A whole two years of history shared again within one night as lips told tales and shared memories. The team had watched the dawn break as their captain joined them scant minutes before the sun would rise over the horizon. The birth of a new day had marked the birth of a new team, minus the leadership of the one who had brought them together as a team in the first place.

Tonight, however, only one boy inhabits that playground with memories dancing through his head. The years are greater now, a history of more time than just the two years that night had stirred into reminiscence. A near lifetime dances behind closed eyelids and he breaths a deep sigh into the night air as he sifts through each one by one.

Is it any coincidence, he wonders, that each of these carefully preserved moments in time feature the same main cast? Supporting characters could come and go but still forever etched into the pages of his mind the same faces play over and over again.

A grating squeak.

The strain of chains and creak of wood.

"Stop hogging the best spots." A sneakered toe pokes the crown of his head indignantly, the slightly muffled sound of music breaking the night's calm. One blue eye cracks open to lazily regard the owner of the shoe before closing again, a hand raising lazily in greeting.

Enter player one. Stage Left.

"I got here first. 'M entitled to the best spot, Buchou."

A muffled snort and another indignant prod before the creaking of wood as the other settles against the post beside the bridge. The music grows clearer and the pounding of symphonic rhythm washes over the prone boy for a moment before he opens his eyes to return them to the sky.

"Still can't get used to that." The voice cuts through the music momentarily.

"After a whole year?" A teasing chuckle and eyes drift from the heavens to meet blue ones different in shade to his own. He smiles in understanding. "I suppose not."

"It's weird. I'm not the Captain. Not really."

"You are. Just not the same one as before. Different. But the same."

From this angle both eyes are visible from beneath crimson bangs and he can see the exasperation his comments place within their depths. He chuckles, low and long into the night and his voice dances with the notes pouring forth from earphones.

"Stop laughing, idiot." He complies as a short rap on his head with knuckles rattles him for a moment. Annoyed eyes meet his own and he smiles, turning to gaze over at the building not far from where they sit.

"It feels strange. Leaving."

A red head tilts in contemplation, a foot tapping against the side of the bridge.

"Yeah. We're all going...at least we'll be together."

"Will we?"

"Why wouldn't we?" The voice tries not to sound panicked...and fails.

"Things change. We might have no choice."

They fall silent and there is nothing but the slight whisper of a breeze through leaves, the tap of sneaker against wood, the squeak of a rocking bridge and the changing beat of the music. Then sand crunches under them and a sneaker is tugged.

Enter Player Two. Stage Right.

"Kyo." The body shifts and with it the bridge. "What took you so long?"

A cap is pulled low over eyes and a smile curves over lips as a warm hand wraps around his own. Springing lightly, he leaps up onto the bridge, settling into the embrace open towards him.

"Parents were still awake. Had to wait until they went to sleep, Tatsu."

"We are so too old to be sneaking out through our windows." Comes the muttered complaint.

An eye peeks out from beneath the brim of a cap. "Getting on are we, Buchou? Now you're going to High School you're going to go all responsible on us."

The cap is knocked to the ground with a fierce slap and with a squawk the owner jumps off the bridge to retrieve it.

"Responsible my arse." The red head grumbles as the other returns the cap to his head and jumps back onto the bridge. "You make me sound like my father."

"That would be just strange." The soft sound of shoes against grass and the low monotone drifts over the three. "For Akira to be his father that would mean he gave birth to himself. Sort of considered it was his mother that actually gave birth to him and not his father. So I suppose that means he would have had to conceive himself." The wood creaks again as another body drops to its surface and leans against the redhead. "And then I would be dating the father of the son of the son of the father which doesn't make any sense."

Enter Player Three. Downstage Left.

Three pairs of eyes blink in confusion before rolling in exasperation.

A kiss is shared.

The breeze idly drifts through this barren forest of wood and metal, lifting strands of crimson and ink, ruffling chocolate and trying to free gray from it's perch.

"You'd think someone was dying, the way you four look." A chuckle and a shove and the pair entwined on the bridge topple to the ground like toy soldiers, muttering curses and threats as muffled and not so muffled laughter caresses their ears. Placing cap once again atop of head, the shorter of the pair glares at their attacker his only reward another laugh.

"You guys should have seen the look on your faces. Priceless."

"Come over here...." A low growl in reply.

A hand is offered and the pair is pulled to their feet only to push the other back in the sand to replace them. The pair safe above them on the floor laugh again, the music from earphones still a constant beat in the background.

Enter Player Four. Downstage Centre.

"You're an idiot, Sakurai." Sand is shaken free from spiky strands and though the tone is rebuking the smile is warm.

"Probably." A smirk and a wink.

The bridge squeaks as it is rocked again, three bodies depositing themselves on its slats as it sways to and fro. The pair curl together again, he who had so rudely interrupted their cuddle laying down on his stomach to trail a hand in the sand.

The night is heavy with something not spoken, be it meaningless words or not. Thoughts do not remain idle and memories once again drift between those gathered, begging for release into the night air. Silence is constantly broken only by muffled music, gentle breaths and the occasional protest from their chosen resting spot.

"It's too damn quiet."

"How can it be quiet with that music blaring outta those headphones. You'll be going deaf soon, old man."

"Eh? Old man? I'm younger than you are."

"Yeah but you're the one that's all responsible now."

A muffled snort, held back laughter.

"Oi, Oi, Oi. Fine everyone pick on me just because I'm the Captain." Blue eyes rolls, though a smile tugs at lips. "Tachibana never had to put up with this crap."

"Tachibana had to put up with more."

Laughter.

Heads turn to the speaker as he strolls over green lawn, bandana almost a glow in the moonlight.

Sands crunches as footsteps reach the edge of the pit beneath the fort and a body drops bonelessly into the sand, tall form leaning against the support just below the figure sprawled above him.

Enter Player Four. Downstage Right.

A hand lazily drifts to caress one cheek, tugged a little on the cloth covered scalp before it is caught and entwined in another.

The players are all there now, faces matching with the visions in his mind. Blue eyes gaze about imprinting yet another scene upon the pages of his own history book. The closest of friends, together since before they can remember, fitting so perfectly against each other's side. The gentle giant with a soft smile for his partner who's smirk still curls his lips as easily as his hands curls about the palm and fingers entwined with his own.

And a gray cap very rarely ever missing from atop a head of closely cropped hair. Eyes hidden beneath its brim and lips curved into a small smile just barely visible. The smaller body is wrapped within his own embrace and the warmth is a familiar comfort that he knows he will never forget.

And suddenly.

"Do you remember when...?"

Memories spill forth, finally free. The past is shared. Laughter, pain, sorrow, joy, everything spills out into the night air as the six remember what made their lives up until this point. The hours tick yet time is forgotten in favor of a trip back into what once was.

"...and Akira was crashing to the ground..."

"...only to land on his hand and score one of the best points I think I'll ever see."

Eyes turn to greet that well known, well loved voice and suddenly a piece they were unaware was missing is put into place.

The scene is complete.

So Mori smiles, arms still wrapped around Uchimura as their former Captain sits in an abandoned swing and lets the chains creak as he rocks ever so slightly back and forth. Akira's headphones still play a persistent beat and Shinji's mumbles have yet to cease from the conversation just previous. Ishida looks as though he will doze sometime soon, eyes faraway and gazing off into the lightening sky. Sakurai just smiles...somewhere between his usual smirk and a grin...and keeps his fingers entwined with his partner's.

And the sun breaks forth over the horizon, pastels of pink, lavender, orange and gold spilling over the sky and the clouds to bring life to this graveyard playground. Seven pairs of eyes watch the birth of a new day and the beginning of a new history.

Once again, Tachibana brings with him the sunrise.


End file.
